AN: Here's "And So I Cry Sometimes When I'm Lying In Bed Just To Get It All Out, What's In My Head", title from... well, I always go with Fabulous Secret Powers by SLACKCiRCUS, which is a cover (of sorts) of What's Up by 4 Non Blondes. Fabulous Secret Powers just feels more Heinz-ish, with the couple of lines added near the end.

Eyes shut, you force down a sob. Quiet, you have to be quiet, don't let him hear you. Don't wake him up. He's so peaceful when he sleeps, and he's asleep beside you, and you can't bear to disturb him. Who cares that you're crying, it's not like you don't cry yourself to sleep most nights anyway. The nights you make it to bed under your own power, at least.

Other nights, the bad nights, you throw yourself into your work, building inator after inator to block out the memories of a past you wish you could forget. Hoping you make it to morning.

If you're lucky, you get to watch the sun rise. If not, you can only assume Norm puts you to bed because that's where you wake up screaming.

Does Perry the Platypus know? You might have told him, one of the nights you were out of your mind with fear, monologuing to keep the silence at bay. Or was that Pretendy the Practicepus, standing in for the only person who's ever bothered to stick around and listen?

Even if it was him, you don't deserve his comfort anyway. Don't deserve him.

He's a Good Guy, for badness sake. And you're, well, Evil's all you've ever been good at, not that you had much of a chance in the first place. Good Guys don't have backstories.

Perry the Platypus doesn't have a backstory, and you know him pretty well by now, he would have mentioned it. It's the kind of thing you're supposed to mention before you sleep with the guy you have feelings for. That's what you did, and look where it got you.

Fighting back another wave of tears, you pull your knees to your chest, grimacing at the way your insides squelch at the motion. What were you thinking, letting him come inside you?

What kind of a man are you if you can't even top? Sure, you'd enjoyed it at the time, but it's a real blow to the masculinity in hindsight, and you don't exactly have an abundance of that. More the opposite, actually.

Especially since Perry the Platypus is manlier than you are. He's strong and stoic and his voice is deeper than yours. How is that fair, he's tiny! And cute, and...

Even his snoring is adorable. How he can sleep so easily, you have no idea, but he's managing it.

You're not jealous.

That's a lie, because you are. He's not a failure, he doesn't get nightmares, he doesn't cry over spilled milk the way you did when your new arm knocked over the bottle of milk that Mother had to remind you was supposed to be for Roger's birthday cake. Because Roger still got those. You'd stopped bothering, after the whole incident with the doonkelberry bats, especially since you've always had to make your own, but Roger never had to worry about that. Mother made him a homemade birthday cake every year, all for him. Last you heard, she still does.

The point is. Perry the Platypus reminds you of all the ways you don't measure up. As a man, as an evil scientist, as a father. You're not stupid, you know Vanessa couldn't stand to be around you, right up until the time Perry the Platypus went and ruined all your hard work putting together her party. Apparently that was enough to change her mind about you.

Sure, you're grateful for the help, but that doesn't mean it doesn't sting. Upstaged by your own nemesis. What kind of father are you if he can just waltz in here and do a better job without even trying?

It's a good thing you never managed to turn him Evil, he'd inevitably upstage you there too. He already rebuilds your inators better than you ever could. Emphasis on rebuild, because he always has to destroy them first. Well, mostly he just breaks things and leaves. Your inators, your walls, your heart...

Why did you ever think he could fix you? You should know better than to hope.

Another sob forces its way out of your chest and you curl tighter, scrubbing at your eyes with the heel of one hand. All he's ever done was prove how much of a failure you are. Couldn't even let you have one victory. Just one. Not like your self-esteem rests on success or anything, because it totally does.

And why do they call it sleeping together, anyway? Sure, he's fast asleep, snoring away next to you without a care in the world, but you're still wide awake. You have no idea how he does it.

Or how he stays so cool and detached when he thwarts you.

Great, one more thing to be insecure about. There's no way you're enough for him when there are other evil scientists out there, you're way too needy, so it's only a matter of time before he finds someone else to thwart. Someone better. And then you'll be all alone again, abandoned, again, because you are and always will be the failure holding everyone else back.

Not that you can tell him that. He's asleep, for one thing, and waking him up would just get him mad at you again and probably punched as well and you'd deserve it, just like you'll deserve his scorn when he finally realises you're not worth it.

A solid warmth presses to the back of your head and you freeze, barely daring to breathe. "Perry the Platypus?" Your voice comes out quiet, hesitant, because you don't deserve to say his name. Any minute now he's going to realise his being awake is your fault and then he'll leave the way he should have when you first met and it'll all be back to how it should be, with him gone and you alone.

Curling around your head anyway, he runs his fingers through your hair, not even stopping when you sob for real. Instead, you hear a soft chirr and he's curled all five limbs around you, holding you tight, like you actually mean something to him.

You're not going to cry, not where he can hear. You won't. You still have some dignity left.

Those tiny teal fingers you adore trace over your skin, light as a feather over your nose and lips and cheeks and eyes and nose again, and you want to tell him to stop. If you could find your voice you'd tell him to stop. You don't deserve this, don't deserve to feel like you matter to him, don't deserve him wiping his thumbs over your tears like they matter.

Squeezing your eyes shut tight, you push down a whimper, unable to bring yourself to push him away like you should. Because you're too greedy, probably. Wanting what you're not supposed to have. Stealing his time and his sympathy from someone who's actually earned it.

He flicks your forehead with a huff and shifts, one of his cute little paws lingering on your cheek. The other tugs insistently at your arm until you give in and let him have it. Lifting your hand up, he curls his tiny fingers around one of yours, like he doesn't mind that it's you, and squeezes firmly enough that you can't mistake it for anything else.

All you can do is squeeze back just as tight and trust that he won't leave.

Which he doesn't. Even after your nose runs and and your chest aches and your tears have dried up, he's still here. Still curled around you, still making those soft noises, still brushing his fingers over your face.

Exhaling, you let yourself relax into him, the warmth of his body around you and the tenderness of his touch. You don't deserve this, but you'll take it anyway, just to know what it feels like. Because you're Evil. Because he's offering. Because, more than anything, you're tired. Tired of fighting, tired of wanting, tired of crying yourself to sleep.

Tired enough to think, just for a second, that he might be right.

AN: Then he falls asleep ;)